


Dancing Deaky's down days

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Dancing, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, Minor Injuries, Minor whump, Queen boys being awesome friends and caretakers, character study of sorts, hurt Deaky, hurt sad John, sprained ankle, sweet nice Rog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 21:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17291336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Disco Deaky dances so hard he falls off the stage and injures himself. The others look after him.Soft hurt Deaky, caretaking band, feels.





	Dancing Deaky's down days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SmittyJaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/gifts).



John was on the floor, considering his life, all that had led him to this moment. It was a cloudy day, but the breeze was nice. He hadn't noticed it while playing, he'd been so concentrated on the music, on delivering a great performance.

There was a huge crowd some metres in front of him, all sounding very shocked. As they would be, when one of the musicians of the band they had come to play had disappeared from the stage and was now nowhere to be seen. It was concerning, to say the least, and the whole song had stopped.

Deaky just breathed.

It was their last song of the concert, their last concert of this leg of the tour and John was giving it his all. Turning and twirling, bopping, wobbling, just giving himself to the music and moving alongside it, enjoying all of it, the power in Freddie's vocals, the unending multiplicity to Brian's guitar, the intensity in Roger's drums... He got too excited, and fell.

He could see his epitaph now: JOHN RICHARD DEACON. HE DANCED HIMSELF TO DEATH.

People would be very sad, crying and saying things like “we warned him to control the dancing, but he was too into it”. Oh, it was sad indeed because he was going to miss him home and all the things in it. A nice cup of tea... Writing songs when it was cold out... His bass and all the nice riffs that would remain unwritten....

He never had meant for any of this to happen. He had just wanted some guys with who he could play his bass, how could he have known they would become one of the biggest bands in England? No, he had never meant to. But there he was, on the floor next to the stage, about two metres lower, wondering what his funeral from dancing too much would look like. His was an odd life.

As he was considering these things three head appeared on his field of vision, a dark haired one, a blond one and a curly one.

“John, are you okay?” Brian's soft voice came above him.

“I'm okay.” John croaked, although he didn't feel like it.

“HE'S OKAYYYY” Freddie shouted at the crowd, and the crowd, all thousand of people cheered.

It turned out that he wasn't as okay as he thought. When Roger and Brian helped him up he couldn't very well put weight on his left foot, because he'd done something to his ankle. Great. Now he would have to tell a million doctors that he had injured himself while dancing. The press would find out, and have a field day with it.... And he wasn't going to be able to properly walk for a while.

Which caused all sorts of trouble.

He couldn't walk properly, even with crutches it was complicated. Stairs were out of the way, and man, there were stairs everywhere. Just taking a taxi was complicated because sometimes there was no place for his crutch. He couldn't go for a walk, because walking with the crutches was exhausting and could damage his arms and cause an accident... It was no use. The most simple things were an ordeal: going to the bathroom, getting to the kitchen to make a sandwich, even answering the phone...

All because he'd danced too much. And now he had too spend weeks in this prison of plaster for not knowing when to stop.

The others were taking good care of him, of course. There was someone with him practically 24/7, they made him food, they helped him change, they went with him to doctor's appointments or made sure he didn't injure himself further when getting some fresh air. They were kind, and patient, and much more than could be expected or asked of some friends. Brian helps him keep things clean and tidy (including his own self), Freddie pretends to cook but generally just gets food delivered and Roger is great at transportation (aka help with the crutches and moving him around).

This is the good part: this time off has allowed him to get some time to think and appreciate the good things he has in his life. Even if he never meant to be part of something as big as Queen, he would do anything that these guys were up to. They are not just very talented, creative, energetic people, they are great guys, and these last weeks they have shown him that they care about him, that they help when help is needed, that he matters to them enough to change their lives and routines just to be with him. Deaky thinks a lot about this as he sees Brian's forms sprawled on the couch sleeping after a long day, or Roger missing out on some car race but watching it with him with a smile. They are the good part, these three people he's happy to call his friends.

But there were bad parts, too. They were supposed to be touring right now, on the second part of the tour. Deaky knows that it's important that they go on concert, not just to feel the the (much needed) giving up on that, on something that was one of the things they loved most... Because he'd danced too hard and lost his footing. It wasn't acceptable, that the band would be hurt so much just because of a stupid accident of his.

John was kind of resigned to them finding a new bassist and touring with this new person for the rest of the tour, maybe of the year. He sighed. People would probably wouldn't even notice different, nobody went to a Queen concert to see him. They went to see Freddie in all his glory, to watch Roger's raw but soft beauty, to listen to Brian's impeccable playing. Nobody really went to see him dance, and they wouldn't lose much.

Still, he missed it. He missed the songs, he missed the crowds, not just the usual things or, you know, being able to go up a flight of stairs or shower normally, but also the bigger things, the applause, the faces of his bandmates when the public started singing a song. And he was making the others miss out on it, and part of him wanted the others to find someone else and go live without him, but the other really didn't want anyone else to take his spot...

He loved his life with Queen, even if it wasn't what he felt he signed up for now it was irrevocably part of his life, and he didn't want it to end so soon. He loved creating songs and watching the others bring them to life, he loved seeing the public sing those very songs with smiles on their faces, and he loved the friends he'd made. And he missed the heats of the concerts, the nerves before a show, he even missed the fights when they were recording.

And he missed dancing. God, he missed dancing so much. With this cast it was difficult to move, just two steps one after the other required time and energy and patience. To think that he wouldn't be able to dance in many weeks... It felt like a nightmare, like torture, like some bad dreams. He should have learned his lesson, he should be considering moderating himself... but he only wanted to dance more.

But maybe when he was finally free and recovered from that ankle the guys would have found someone else and he would have no place to dance... It made him feel, blue, miserable... down. He wanted to be a nice grateful self with his friends who were doing so much for him, but after days and days in which he couldn't do any of the things he loved... It was getting harder.

Roger picked up on his foul mood and commented on it.

“I'm just tired of being this cripple. We were in the middle of a tour, you were enjoying yourselves... I'm sorry I stopped that.”

“Nonsense. Greatness sometimes has these things, you know? But it gives you a moment to take a look around and smell the flowers.”

“You don't wanna do that, Rog. I know you. Should continue touring.”

Roger looked puzzled.

“We can't do that without you. And you're supposed to be resting, I don't think all that travelling...”

“Find someone else.”

The drummer raised an eyebrow, as if that was the most nonsensical thing he'd ever heard.

“Yeah, right. Another bassist. Sure”

“I'm no good. I'm broken and I was stupid to not see where I was putting my foot...”

“It was an accident. We all have accident, we all have our ups and downs. But without you... it wouldn't be Queen, it wouldn't be us. We need our dancing queen, young and sweet, only...”

“Don't you dare sing Abba to me, Roger Taylor!” And he hit his friend of the head with a magazine, but Roger just grinned.

Some things were pretty clear:

a) he wasn't going to stop dancing, despite the consequences

b) Queen was irrevocably part of his life, and that was a good thing.

c)his friends were the stuff of dreams

He was still crippled, and still a bit down, but he had people to pick him from down there.

A way up.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked! 
> 
> If you enjoyed, please do leave a comment!!! I live for your wordsss


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